


Paper Girl

by KnittingNarwhal



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Original Character(s), Other, Self-Harm, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 02:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnittingNarwhal/pseuds/KnittingNarwhal
Summary: Neil notices that Andrew has been self-harming again and struggles to figure out why.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	1. A Bloody Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Do forgive my self indulgence. This is an idea I can’t get out of my head. Pair that with insomnia, and here ya go!

“Hey.”

Andrew brought a shaky hand to his lips, took in a deep drag of his cigarette. The smoke billowed out of his mouth in a lazy cloud before he forced the rest out in a long, quiet sigh. He sat perched on the desk beneath his window. A small pile of folded papers and envelopes sat on his lap. 

He didn’t want to talk, so he didn’t answer. 

“What is that?” 

_Always such stupid, mundane questions_. 

Neil stood in the doorway, allowing Andrew his space. Andrew could feel his eyes on him and it normally felt...right. Foolishly so. Pathetic. Irritating. 

Andrew didn’t want to talk, but Neil had this incredibly annoying ability to pull out whatever Andrew held in his chest. 

“I really should stab you for the shit you make me do,” Andrew said behind another cloud of smoke. 

Neil crossed his arms the way he always did when he didn’t understand what Andrew was talking about. Neil knew better than to ask for an elaboration. He’d never get one. 

“Your hand,” Neil said, ignoring the vague comment. 

Andrew flicked his eyes toward Neil to make sure he was paying attention and held up his right hand. “Cigarette,” he said slowly. He popped the cigarette in between his lips where it dangled, smoke curling toward his disheveled hair. 

“This is a letter,” Andrew continued, waving it in the air. “Remember life before email?” He tossed it aside and leaned against the window. 

Neil’s voice remained calm. Even. “Your hand, Andrew.”

Andrew looked down. His knuckles were covered in blood. Some of it had trickled down and made it onto his bare forearms nearly reaching his elbow. It was mostly dry.

“Papercut.” 

Neil disappeared, rummaged around in the linen closet down the hall, then reappeared with the first aid kit Abby kept stocked in all of the Foxes dorms. 

Andrew stared hard at Neil, waiting to see a flicker of pity or concern in his shockingly blue eyes. There was nothing. Just the same casual detachment of a man who acted like he’d cleaned up bloody wounds his entire life. Interesting, that.

Neil poured peroxide over a was of cotton balls and worked to scrub away the blood. He dabbed around the gashes and worked his way down Andrew’s arm, following the line of red down to his elbow. It was there that Neil hesitated ever so slightly which was enough for Andrew to pull away and tell him to fuck off.

Neil moved the supplies aside but didn’t leave. He watched as Andrew stared out the window and let the rest of his cigarette burn to ash on its own. The involuntary shaking was slight, barely knocking any ash onto the windowsill, but Neil could see it. Andrew could feel it. 

  
“Andrew.”

“No.”  


Neil nodded. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on the desk, lit two, and handed one to Andrew. They sat in silence at the window, gazing outside. Andrew knew Neil would ask again later and the thought annoyed him, heating and twisting in his stomach. Yet it was preferable to how he’d feel if Neil never asked at all. 


	2. Humming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin confronts Andrew about his current situation.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Kevin demanded. 

Andrew hadn’t moved from his position at the window. It was dark now. The sky was black and the street lamps were the only filthy stars Andrew could see scattered about campus. 

_ What a question.  _

“You’re bothering me,” Andrew said. 

“You’re cutting again.” 

Andrew turned slowly toward Kevin. A scowl was fixed on his face, his jaw clenched, eyes hard. 

A weary sense of relief came upon Andrew. If he’d been on his pills he would have laughed. “Betrayal from Neil. Well, it’s about time.”

Kevin scoffed. “Neil didn’t say shit, and he doesn’t have to. You’ve got blood everywhere.”

Andrew didn’t bother looking toward where Kevin gestured. He kept his eyes fixed on Kevin’s. 

Kevin knew. Not everything, but enough. Andrew knew how Kevin felt about his self-destructive tendencies. 

“Clean your shit up. I don’t want to have to put everything on hold if Coach and Abby find out.”

Ah, typical. Kevin was worried about any interference with his game.

“Do I have to call Betsy?” 

It wasn't a threat, it was an offer. Andrew was bored with the conversation. “Do I have to stab you?”

The tiniest bit of severity left Kevin's face. Not a whole lot, but just enough. “Renee will be back from visiting her mom soon.” 

Despite being an insufferable jerk, Kevin understood. He knew what Andrew needed.

Ten days. In ten days Renee would be back. Andrew wasn’t sure what would happen between now and then. He was itching to fight. He needed a good punch to the face, a blow to his ribs. Minimum. He needed to ache and bruise, to hear his muscles scream, to make his lungs fight for their breath. Renee was the only one who wouldn’t disappoint. 

Kevin eventually left and Andrew looked down at the blood-splattered letters on his desk. He needed air. 

Andrew jumped down from his perch and roughly pulled down on the black bands he wore on his arms. The fresh, bright gash that ran from the side of his left wrist to his elbow was bright and angry and stung in a familiar way. He barely felt the wound reopen as he shoved the bands back on. He clenched his fists and relaxed, grabbed his cigarettes, and left the dorm with the door slamming hard behind him. 

Outside the air was cold. It was November. Almost some stupid, pointless holiday. Andrew walked. He didn’t want the roof. He went there when he wanted to feel. He didn’t want to feel the stupid fucking emotions that were scratching beneath his skin, clawing at his skull, making him feel like he wanted to puke. 

Andrew followed the street lamps for an hour until he was on the edge of campus, nearly in the next town over. The sidewalk came to an end with a solitary light on the edge of the highway. 

The hum of the sodium vapor street lamp buzzed in unison to the insect-like buzzing of Andrew’s troubled thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't hesitate to share any thoughts/feelings/constructive criticism. It's all appreciated. I hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	3. Pouring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew opens up (albeit vaguely as ever) to Neil about someone from his past.

Andrew had been careless. Uncharacteristically so. When he came home a few hours after his walk he realized he’d left one of his knives in the bathroom. 

Kevin was an idiot, but he wasn’t an idiot. 

Andrew silently cursed himself for being stupid and cleaned the knife before slipping it carefully away. 

Aaron surely saw it, too. He didn’t say anything though. He knew better. 

  
*********

“It’s your turn.”

Silence. Thoughts. 

“Why haven’t you gotten any sleep?”

Andrew had been expecting a different question, but of course Neil was infuriatingly unpredictable at times. 

A long stretch of silence filled the air between them before Andrew answered. He waited to see if Neil would grow uncomfortable or assume he’d never get an answer and leave. But he sat there, relaxed, waiting. 

  
The sun was almost up, gently reaching with the tips of its rays to the horizon. Andrew had been up for two days straight, going on three. He’d stopped shaking at this point but felt like he was going to throw up. The haze of sleep deprivation wrapped around him like a wooly cotton ball. Soft, yet uncomfortably itchy. Sleep begged to take him over but his mind wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he’d be lucky and Neil would bring a fist to his face. 

  
“I told someone once.” Andrew barely managed. The words were acrid on his tongue. 

Neil tensed ever so slightly. 

“Someone other than Aaron’s fuckface of an uncle,” he clarified, knowing what Neil was thinking. 

Normally this was the part where Andrew would ask Neil a question, any question, and torture him for days or weeks, maybe longer, for the chance to ask a follow up question. But Andrew was fucking tired and everything hurt and he wasn’t in the mood for games. 

It all just came out. 

“I told her, and she believed me. She fucking believed me. She looked me right in the eye and said the right words and knew I spoke the truth.”

“Who?” Neil asked. 

“The Paper Girl.”

“The…” Neil frowned, confused. “A newspaper delivery girl?”

He was stupidly endearing sometimes. 

“No.”

He wanted to stop right there. His chest hurt, his stomach threatened to empty bile. But he kept going.

“Paper Girl. Fragile. With paper eyes and a paper heart. Easily burnt if she got too close to the fire.”

A weariness came across Neil’s face. Andrew knew what he was thinking. _You’re not making any sense. _

“I told Paper Girl what happened to me, you see. And she wanted to help me.”

Neil asked his next question carefully. “So…but she didn't? Why couldn't she help you?”

Andrew never smiled, especially not now that he was off those god awful pills. But his face twisted into a cold, humorless grin. He couldn’t help it. He felt sick. “Because I told her if she did I’d kill her.”

Neil’s breath caught in his chest, Andrew could see. 

“And then I sliced her arms open.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paper Girl is a song by July Talk, one of my favorite bands. When the idea for this story began blooming in my head, this song came on and inspired something! 
> 
> "Paper Girl"  
July Talk
> 
> Don't ask a question  
Don't seek my trust  
You don't look pretty when you smile  
So don't smile at all
> 
> You loved me like a doctor  
Horse don't run with a broken leg  
You're a Paper Girl with Paper Eyes, you're a Paper Crop  
And if you think it's your turn to ask a question, it's not
> 
> And if you want money in your coffee  
If you want secrets in your tea  
Keep your Paper heart away from me
> 
> It must be hard  
To be a Pretty Girl  
It must be hard  
To watch your body growing old
> 
> And I'll be laughing in your head until I want to stop  
And if you think it's your turn to explain yourself, it's not
> 
> And if you want money in your coffee  
If you want secrets in your tea  
Keep your Paper heart away from me
> 
> The tables have turned, you're still there  
Now you're singing in your electric chair  
You'll burn if you're made of paper you're going to see


	4. Roslyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil learns more about the mysterious Paper Girl.

Andrew had finally drifted off to sleep. 

“I sliced her arms open,” he’d said before he detached and his eyes focused on something faraway. 

Neil watched Andrew in silence. He knew the wrong words, the wrong tone of voice, the wrong body language, anything, would cause Andrew to clam up. It was unusual for him to give up so much in one go, but Neil blamed the sleep deprivation for that. 

Andrew’s eyes never refocused and Neil watched as he leaned forward onto the kitchen table where he and Neil had been sitting, rest his head on his crossed arms, and soon was breathing evenly. 

_Finally_, Neil thought. He sent texts to the Foxes that were still on campus, ordering them not to come anywhere near the room lest they interrupt Andrew while he slept. 

He’d seen many sides of Andrew but he’d never seen him so messed up over something to the point where he lost sleep over it. 

Neil pulled his hood over his head and rest his head on the crook of his arm on the table across from Andrew. He drifted off to sleep just as the sun had made its complete ascent into the sky but he was so tired he barely noticed the light in his eyes.

*********

Neil woke up to an empty table. 

He looked around, eyes bleary. Andrew wasn’t in sight. He checked his phone. It was almost noon. Andrew had only gotten maybe four hours of sleep. Probably less, since Neil didn’t actually know when he’d woken up. It could have been twenty minutes after he'd drifted asleep for all he knew. 

Andrew appeared as Neil stood up and stretched. He looked as though sleep had made him more tired rather than rested. 

“Get out,” Andrew said flatly. 

Neil wasn’t offended but he was disappointed. The Foxes were taking an extended break for Thanksgiving for various reasons. Even Kevin was out and about having to take care of who knows what and wasn’t around to go to the court with Neil. 

Neil felt restless and he would have preferred to stay with Andrew, but he shrugged and said, “I’m going for a run.”

***********

When Neil returned, Andrew was waiting for him. His arms were bare and folded across his chest.

He spun around and Neil followed him to the laundry room on the main level of the apartment building. 

The air was uncomfortably hot and thick with humidity. Neil watched as Andrew blocked the door with one of the tropical-looking potted trees that was large and heavy enough that it had to be dragged across the floor. He then pushed the button on all of the dryers that brought them wheezing to life. Some of the machines banged and crashed on the inside, and Neil wondered if Andrew threw random things in them to make them extra loud. 

  
  


Neil wasn’t sure if Andrew was doing this so that no one could hear him or if he needed the noise. Both, maybe?

He’d done nothing to hide the new, fresh cuts that lined up and down his arms. Neil’s heart sank. 

Andrew all but pressed Neil against one of the washing machines. “She writes me letters,” he said. 

Neil froze, shocked that Andrew was continuing his story without being prompted. This must have been worse than Neil had anticipated. 

“The Paper Girl,” Neil said. 

Andrew continued as though he hadn't heard. “I wonder what would have happened if I’d let her go to the police.”

Neil said nothing. What could he say?

“I couldn’t let her, though. See, I shouldn’t have told her anything in the first place. She was a perfect girl from a perfect world and any scumbag would revel in the joy of tearing her down and watching her skin her knees. I saw the look in her eyes when I told her, the naïve little flammable paper girl who had never known that humanity was corrupt and filthy and people commit terrible acts toward each other. For her it was something you only saw in the movies, things that happened to fictional characters in books. Not right down the street from you.”

Andrew took a step back from Neil. “My first mistake. I made sure I paid for it.” He pointed to one of the scars on his forearm. 

“My second mistake was making her bleed. But you see, I had to.” 

Neil didn’t pretend to understand that, but didn’t dare say a word. Andrew continued, tracing his fingers along the two most pronounced scars he had. 

“If she said anything to anyone, they’d see her arms. Or I’d tell them myself, and then they’d be all over her. The beautiful, sweet girl couldn’t be broken and they’d be all over her and tell her not to worry about me, that she’d have to worry about herself.”

Andrew dragged his gaze to Neil and waited. 

Neil stared back and didn’t speak until a frozen stone formed in his chest and made its way down to the pits of his stomach. 

“Oh,” he whispered, suddenly understanding. “What was her name?”

Neil had never heard Andrew describe a woman as beautiful, sweet, or perfect. In fact, Neil suspected that Andrew was hateful towards all women, with few exceptions. Even Betsy and Renee, both who Andrew adored furiously, got polite words and unique attention from Andrew, but were never described in such a positive light. 

A grimace flashed across Andrew’s face. It was gone as quickly as it came. “Roslyn.”

“Was she….she was...You had feelings for her.” Neil could barely hear his own voice and he knew he'd made a mistake before the words clumsily tumbled out his mouth. 

Andrew’s eyes widened and he hooked a finger in Neil’s collar, pushing him back against the washing machine. He kicked the machine. Hard. 

“You’re not listening,” he said through clenched teeth. He kicked the machine again, and then again. Banged his clenched fist against the metal lid so that it stayed permanently dented from the force.

He backed away, hiding within his typical facade of indifference, and threw the plant out of his way. He left the door open as he casually walked out, leaving Neil with his regret for saying anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, poor guys. Neil thinks Andrew is confessing his love for a woman and it's practically killing Andrew to talk about things. Fear not! For they'll figure this all out and all will be well. Thanks for reading!


	5. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil learns more about Roslyn and why Andrew hurt her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hokay, I think I posted this chapter a bit too hastily. I'm not really happy with it.....I think I need to make some changes. It can stay for now, but I think some adjustments will be made.

Neil stormed into Andrew’s room. Andrew didn’t look surprised. He just looked exhausted. His eyes were dark, he was paler than usual. 

“She meant something to do.”

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew said. His voice sounded odd. Hoarse. 

“Whatever. You’re allowed to have had past relationships or crushes….or…interests. Andrew, look -- ” Neil stopped abruptly as Andrew methodically and carelessly tossed clean dishes from the cabinets into the sink. Each one shattered loudly, sending stray shards of glass across the kitchen. 

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

“You didn’t want her to die, though. And from the way you talked about her it seems like you cared about her. I mean...you said it, she believed you. Why would you attack her? You didn’t do it just so that you could use it as a tool.” 

Andrew stopped. 

“You were close, weren’t you? You and Roslyn. You confided in her. And then things got too close, too real, she could have helped you….and you went and sabotaged the relationship.”

Andrew looked bored, exhausted, but from the way he sat perfectly still Neil could tell he was on the right track. 

Something else suddenly dawned on Neil. “You were worried Roslyn would tell Cass.”

"You talk too much.” was Andrew’s reply. 

Neil decided to let it go for now. He knew Andrew used cutting as a coping mechanism and that he wasn’t suicidal. It bothered Neil, his heart gave a distressed lurch in his chest every time his eyes caught the sight of the bright red lines. But he had no right to ask Andrew to stop...did he?

“We will figure this all out,” Neil mumbled, not realizing he’d spoken out loud. 

Andrew’s gaze was cold but he said nothing as he slowly reached for another dish and tossed it into the sink. He didn’t fight Neil when he lead him over to the table and sat him down. 

Neil grabbed a few mugs that had escaped Andrew’s destruction and brushed some glass pieces off the stove so he could boil some water. 

The entire kitchen was littered with jagged edges of white porcelain and glittering blue glass. Andrew and Neil sat surrounded by the mess as though it were perfectly normal. Neil sipped on hot tea in silence while Andrew watched the steam from his cup cease with time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, Andrew, Andrew, Andrew. How you torture yourself so unmercifully.


End file.
